To Run From the Nonexistent
by Unistall
Summary: About the people who the Winchesters save on their way and how much it actually affect those people, now when they suddenly know about the supernatural.


**Author's note:** Yeah, no... I'm not sure why I keep writing stories about everyone else than the main characters (they're in it, just not really in focus). It's all still pretty new to me, but I really wanted to write something, and this had lingered in my mind for some time. I guess I thought they needed some love too, in some way.  
Oh, and I think this is my second time in my whole life I've written in second person. It's scary... I know I shifted between "you" and "they" through the story, which might be a little confusing, but they're actually just the same! All the ones the Winchesters have saved through the time.

**Disclaimer: **Eric Kripke owns Supernatural.

* * *

If one someday should look out of the window and see a black Impala (1967 Chevrolet Impala, if one have knowledge of cars) parked outside and two men heading towards the door of your house, you ought to run.  
Drop everything you're holding, even your dead mother's precious bowl of glass if that is, and when run through the house you might have lived in your whole life - maybe only weeks. Out the backdoor, don't bother closing it after you. Try and kick off your high heels if that's what you're having on, because it's all about running. Don't worry about the stones if you're bare-footed, and never consider to go back to put on your expensive running shoes or any other shoes at all. Don't do it even while you're still in the house. Just run.

Jump or crawl over your neighbours' fences if that's what in your way - don't waste your time to watch out for the flowers on the other side. Kick them up, step on them - you can always come back and apologize later. Ignore the baying dog that might try to scare you. Outrun it even if that seems impossible. Just don't let it hold you back. Stop only if you're about to pass out. Find a place you feel safe, but not a place you'll be found. Do the impossible and keep hidden.

In the city, in a small town, suburb, district, out in the country, no matter where you live and whatever stands in the way, you ought to run when you see the black Impala and the two Winchesters.

But you don't.

* * *

They never do. They don't know any better. Nobody ever told them that ghosts are real, that a werewolf was the one that killed the poor girl who was written about in the paper or that there are real witches in someone's basement, figuring out how to curse all the ones they detest. That the creatures they only read about in fairytales or horror books really do exist.  
No, they never know about that frightful world when they open the door after the first few knocks, but they probably will end up knowing, sealing their fate the moment the door swing open (or just a tad because of all the locks. The people living in a haunted house soon find they are more paranoid than ever without really knowing why.) and they meet the two brothers who knows so much, if not all, about that world.

Meeting the two brothers is a blessing and a curse at the same time. You might never know their real names, hiding behind just as fake ID's as the name that's written on it. Police, FBI, priests, the goddamn pest control. They are everything, everybody, but try looking for them and they don't exist at all. They'll move into your life before you know it, asking unusual questions, searching, scanning and _knowing everything _about you.

They'll be swift, working without much sleep so they can, without you knowing yet, save your life. Normally you will know in the end though. Some might be lucky and the brothers fast enough. They'll be the ones that will watch the brothers drive off, when shrug over their weirdness and close the door, still naive and unknowing of the darker side of the world. They'll be the lucky ones.

The others though, where the brothers just aren't fast enough, will see.

* * *

"Seeing is believing." Friends might say to another friend to make him do a stunt he claims to be able to do, betting if he can or not. Eyes never cheat. Tongues and tells do. Facts and proves, something to grasp, hold on to. That's that Man believes.

And they will. Some might think they're going insane, that their eyes actually might be cheating them. Some will just know instantly, accept it and hold tight. All fighting for their life they still hold dear, but without knowing how to. The brothers, _SmithAndersonParkerLee, _whoever the brothers are at the moment, will know and they _will_ protect and kill.

And you will know as you see them kill that should not exist, that those two are a blessing with a curse. A curse that can easily infect.

When you close the door after watching the brothers leave (and silently hoping to never see them again) you will know even more, wondering if that _is_ the curse. Simply knowing.

And so they will mourn, crying in the night, afraid to close their eyes and fall asleep. They will mourn for their loved ones they lost to the creature, pray for the brothers they know will be fighting a new monster the next week, crave for their childhood that suddenly seem so far away and the time fairytales were to make them feel good.

* * *

Fighting to keep the last of your sanity and mind, you will try not to look back over your shoulder when you walk on the street at night, not to have a glass full of salt on the bed table, not to break down crying, screaming about what you saw that night, about what you _know._ Every day you watch the people on the street walk by with worries about divorces, the daughter with an eating disorder, the son who's in jail because of a fight and all the others everyday problems. Those people don't _know_.

You envy and you wish. Wishing back to that time you saw the black Impala and two men walking towards your house.

Wishing you had run.


End file.
